Chapter 17: When the Dark Mark Turns Black
Alexander knelt behind a pillar, his head nearly touching the floor. The past few minutes had been agony as his body brought up his former dinner. Now he held on to the cool stone for support, cursing Snape with every ounce of strength he had left.
"Are you all right, Finley?" Lupin's voice called from behind him.
Alexander looked at him over his shoulder, slightly surprised he hadn't heard the other wizard walk up behind him. "Yes…I think…" Just then, his stomach gave a small growl and he leaned forward again, his entire body shaking violently.
Lupin placed a hand on his shoulder. "Perhaps we should get you to the infirmary. Madam Pomfrey has something that could help you out."
"I don't think she would have anything that I need right now." Alex gritted, unable to shake off Lupin's hand.
The shabbily dressed wizard crouched beside Alexander. "Trust me, Finley, you need to get a potion to take care of this."
"I'm sure there's no potion in the world that can help our dear Burdock." Snape's cold voice caused them both to look up at him. "His problems far exceed anything we can cure with a simple concoction." Snape's face twisted into a self-satisfied smirk as he looked down at Alexander and the floor in front of him. "My, my, what a mess. Filch isn't going to be too happy cleaning this up, now is he?"
"Sod of, Snape." Alexander grunted.
Snape's leer deepened as he leaned forward. "Quite an impression you've made on your new students, wouldn't you say?"
"Stop it, Severus." Lupin frowned up at him. "You know very well you provoked this. You can at least apologize."
"Apologize?" Snape gave a humorless laugh, his cold eyes never once leaving Alex, "To him? Lupin, can I help it if the man can't hold food in his stomach for more than five minutes?"
Alex glared up at the Potions Master. "You insufferable git…"
"Tch, tch," Snape folded his arms, "I wouldn't be so quick to condescend, Burdock."
Lupin stood up, helping Alexander get slowly to his feet. "Come, we'll get you back to your rooms."
"We?" Snape asked with an eyebrow arched delicately.
"Yes, Severus. We." Lupin said his eyes hooded and brooking no room for argument. "It would only be fair of you after putting Alexander through this ordeal."
Alex jerked away from his grip, staring at him with wide eyes, and unknowingly backing into Snape. "What…? How did you…?" He asked incredulously, ignoring Snape's slight hiss of pain as he stepped on his foot.
Lupin merely smiled. "Professor Dumbledore told me everything before you came."
"Now why would he do that?" Snape asked, and Alex thought he could detect a smidgen of bewilderment in his voice.
"There's no one here I would tell," Lupin explained with a small smile, "Besides, I'll be in Romania by the end of the week."
"Exactly!" Snape growled, "You could let something slip while in Romania with all your werewolf friends (1)."
This time it was Lupin's turn to tut-tut Snape. "I am surprised you have so little faith in me, Severus. I would have thought…"
"You thought wrong, Lupin." Snape's voice had dropped to a sub-zero temperature, and Alex shivered slightly, reminded of the coldness the dementors always caused. "You would be the last person I would trust, and it is only because of the good graces I hold with Dumbledore and the fact we are on the same side that I even tolerate your presence."
Lupin seemed unfazed by this. Instead he looked at Alexander, smiling sadly. "Dumbledore didn't tell me everything, just a brief explanation of why you are here and what your name is. He didn't tell me you had been in Azkaban though. But when I saw you the first time, you reminded me powerfully of my friend Sirius Black, when he first escaped from prison."
"Sirius Black?" Alex asked incredulously, "He's your friend? He was in the cell next to me…how did he do after escaping?"
"I'll tell you the story as we walk to your rooms," Lupin said, gently leading Alex by the arm, who didn't shake him off this time, leaving a frowning Snape standing in the middle of the hallway.
Severus Snape watched their retreating backs until they disappeared from view before whirling around and sweeping down the stairs to the dungeons. He practically ran into his office, slamming the door behind him and leaning against it.
"Get a hold of yourself, man." He said aloud, his eyes closed. The truth was the past week had been exhausting.
It had all started when the Dark Mark had burned on his arm for the first time since the Triwizard Tournament—owling, Voldemort style—and he had gone to the Death Eater meeting in the old Riddle mansion. In truth, Severus wondered why in hell Voldemort chose to remain at the mansion, especially since the Potter boy had survived to give away where they were. Perhaps the Dark Lord felt confident no one would believe the boy's story and therefore wouldn't bother inspecting the Riddle Manor. Which was true. There were only a small handful of people that believed Potter's tale, the most important of whom was Dumbledore. Everyone else assumed Potter was insane and Dumbledore was a doddering old fool.
Fools…if only they knew. But they don't. They're nice and safe, protected by the ignorance they've built up for the past fourteen years. If only the day would come where they would have the wool pulled off their eyes.
But thus far the day wasn't going to be soon in coming. Voldemort's plan was one of guerrilla tactics. Small attack here, quick strike there. Nothing that could really catch people's attention. The biggest hit they'd had since the Tournament was the one on Azkaban.
He had gone to that meeting, where the usual group waited in their usual circle. Except for the few gaps in the circle everything seemed almost like the 'good old days'. Avery made a crack about Snape being late and Severus retorted in his usual sarcastic form. Voldemort had silenced them once everyone had arrived and called Severus forward. After a casual Cruciatus curse to remind Snape who was boss, the Dark Lord had sent him out with a task force of five other Death Eaters to "handle the situation" that was Azkaban. They were given explicit orders to kill all wizard guards as well as those who were certifiably insane. Any former supporters who were still in full control of their mental capabilities were to be regrouped and sent straight back to Voldemort. Apparently Lord Voldemort had already spoken to the dementors, because they left the island right after the troupe of Death Eaters arrived. Snape hadn't bothered wondering where they'd gone as his colleagues got to work on the Azkaban.
Even now he shuddered when he thought about some of the things Malfoy and the others did to those who were insane. They're never happy with a clean kill. It's always the messier the better for them. He and Pettigrew had gone about talking to those who hadn't become crazy, gaining many new supporters who were handed a portkey and sent instantly to Voldemort's side, who would seal their oath to him by burning the Dark Mark into their arms.
Snape held up his own arm, allowing the sleeve to fall down its length, staring in repulsion at the skull and snake that still showed slightly black there. His constant reminder of what he was, what he had become. Most days he wished he could climb underneath a rock and join the rest of the slimy, dark creatures that squirmed and crawled in the bowels of the earth.
With a small snort he dropped his arm and started to pace around the cramped confines of his office, hands clasped behind his back. He was still trying to decide what had made Malfoy give in so easily to his taking Alex away without killing him.
Perhaps he knew Weasley wasn't really insane and believes I was going to persuade him to join the Dark Side. It was entirely possible…but not logical. Malfoy wasn't the one to think ahead like that. Then why hasn't he told Voldemort about what I did? The answer came pretty easily to that question. Though he kept it better hidden than Peter Pettigrew, Lucius Malfoy was a coward at heart. He would be afraid of what the Dark Lord would do to punish him for allowing a convict to get away with a known spy.
Yes, Voldemort was well aware that Snape was a spy. But, after the first five Cruciatus curses, the Dark Lord had left him lying prone on the floor, still breathing and twitching sporadically from the after-effects of the curse, and merely stated Snape was a better asset alive than dead. Even now Snape couldn't understand what he meant by it, but he decided to not try and find out and just to let things go as they were instead.
And then there was Weasley—Alexander. Severus didn't know exactly how that happened. He was going about his business, trying to stay alive and all that, that's all. Then that man had to be there. Severus paused in front of the fire the house elves had lit in the little fireplace, staring at the dancing flames as if they held the answers he needed. Why had he felt if necessary to save that man? He had appeared insane, just as insane as the others, and he knew Malfoy was getting ready to kill him.
It was just when the prisoner had looked at him with those dark, lifeless eyes, he had seen, for the briefest of seconds, a tiny spark of something. It could have been anything: the way the torch light flickered across his face or the shine off of Pettigrew's silver hand. But instinctively Severus knew it wasn't either of those things. It was his first sign that this man wasn't like the others. And then Malfoy had thrown the Cruciatus and the convict had fallen to the floor, writhing in pain but no sound coming from him. Even those who were crazy had made some sound of protest against the waves of excruciating pain, but not this one. When Malfoy had lifted the curse and the man had opened his eyes Severus saw defiance for a fleeting moment burning bright in them before it died out. He should have known right then that the man was a Gryffindor, but something had blinded him, moved him to get Alexander away from Malfoy's clutches. It wasn't pity—dear lord, no—he didn't think what he felt had a name. Perhaps it was a form of compassion and…what, love? Now you've severely snapped.
Snape snorted again. He had never felt love for another human being. His feelings for Dumbledore consisted largely of respect and friendship, or what he imagined friendship to be. Even during his school days Snape never had a true friend. He'd been adopted into the Slytherin circle for his knowledge of Potions and the Dark Arts. He had always been a pawn, his entire life. Well, now is not the time to get bitter about it, Snape. Right. He had to focus.
But his mind drifted once again to Alexander. He couldn't help it. The man was an enigma. As were his feelings for him. Severus couldn't believe that he actually had thought he'd been moved by love for the man. It'd been the first time he'd ever seen him since school. He didn't know him and honestly he didn't want to know him.
Are you sure about that, Snape? Severus frowned, mentally waving that thought away. Of course he was sure. The man had already tried to take his life twice and was waiting for another chance. It was only Dumbledore that was holding him back. Severus swore to himself he wouldn't set a foot outside the school alone with Alexander, ever.
But think about what he's been through, Snape. Hell and back, worse than you've ever known. Watching his own wife's murder. Snape positively scowled. Alexander's wife, Jakura. Severus had known her during their school days, and something about Alexander's description of her didn't fit. But something else was bothering him about this Jakura. There had always been "honorary" members of the Death Eater circle. They were Voldemort's real spies in the Ministry. Their names were never revealed, even to the Dark Lord's innermost circle, and they attended meetings fully robed and masked, their identities mysteries until the end. It only seemed a fitting theory that this Jakura was one of those spies.
Of course, you may be wrong. Yes, he may be wrong, and for what was left of Alexander's sanity, he hoped he was wrong.
It would've been a classic move for Voldemort to have something set up like this, incarcerating innocent witches and wizards for his own ends. Severus wouldn't expect anything less from the Dark Lord to do something like that.
Snape was pulled out of his reverie by a sudden burning on his arm. Without looking at it he knew the skull would be glowing brightly black against his skin. Speak of the Devil…
(1) A reference to an excellent work of fanfiction about Remus Lupin by the Wolfie Twins, "Call of the Wild". I suggest you read it; it does such a great job of looking at Remus' life before PoA.
A/N: Aha! Wednesday! See, I told you I would do it! **happy dance** Maybe I can get Ch. 18 up today as well…but I'm not going to promise anything, though I will have the next two chapters up by tomorrow night, most definitely. I thought we needed a bit of a peek into the mysterious mind of Severus Snape (everyone's favorite Potions Master, woo hoo!) For those of you who don't like it, I apologize if the very mild slash (or yaoi) offended you any. I am considering to put some more of it in this…just be forewarned. It shouldn't be anything too serious…I don't know if I see a relationship between Alex and Snape, as it seems to me that Alex would be more content gouging out Snape's eyes. But you know what they say about strong hate and what it covers up…hehe… Anyway, that whole thing's up in the air right now. Lets just see how things go, shall we? (I swear, this story is writing itself…I wish it would give me some control over it…I'm just the "middle-man" sittin' at the keyboard…*grumble*) Hope y'all enjoyed this chapter.
